Rite of the New Dawn

In the fog
In this final moment
In the hour of damnation

By the rite
Of the white gold flower
By the light of the new born dawn

A red star shines
An evil presence
Like a parasite
Gnawing on our minds
Usurping the will
Feeding on the flame
Draining its essence
Polluting the self

I breathe the dust
Of this dreadful place
The slow poisoning

As the dirge
Continues ever onward
We merge with the consciousness
Of the hive mind

Our limbs stretched
Our bones mangled
Obscure deformations
Of our mortal vessels

A body fitted
To serve only one purpose
Fragile flesh molded
To adhere to the omniscient will

The age of flexibility
Brought forth by our own twisted desires
Condemned by those of old
Who predetermined our destiny